


Steps

by Ser_Renity



Series: Post-Canon [12]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dancing, Fluff, Grimmjow POV, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 02:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Renity/pseuds/Ser_Renity
Summary: They dance.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stupidwolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidwolves/gifts).



> Happy Birthday @ the viih < 3

* * *

 

 

“Wait,” you said and your eyes widened, “You can dance?”

  
“Well,” Askin replied and smiled his most charming smile, “We can dance if we want to. We can leave your friends behind, even. Because your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance, well, then they’re no friends of mine.”

  
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks because it was suddenly obvious he was making fun of you, laughed at your expense, thought of you as some stupid creature so far removed from his intellectual plane that regular sentences just didn’t suffice to express his disdain. All at once you turned away and were ready to just forget about this and run off to some distant place where your anger and shame wouldn’t find you.

  
Askin stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, carefully but insistently turning you around to face him.

  
“Grimmjow,” he said and shook you from the spiral downwards, “It’s a song. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound belittling, it was just something that came to my mind.”

  
His fingertips on your shoulder stroked down once, twice, a third time. Reassuring. A good touch.

  
“Oh,” you said and felt a little foolish, “Whoops.”

  
“Yeah,” Askin answered and cupped the back of your head, “Whoops, too.”

  
He kissed you; quickly at first, just a peck on the lips and then slower, forever taking his time.

  
It calmed you down without fail. You reciprocated almost instantly and looped your arms around his neck. Kissing him was one of your favorite things still and you let your eyes slide shut, angled your head to deepen the kiss.

  
Askin called you insatiable once and you agreed- you had taken to kissing immediately, enjoyed it more than you ever thought you would.

  
Now he hummed as you gently scratched your fingernails over his skin, just above his shoulder blades.

  
“Still wanna dance?” he asked you, playing with your hair.

  
You nodded, just once, a little too quickly, licked your lips shyly. It was embarrassing to you that you couldn’t do such a simple thing and needed help with it- but you were also excited to try it out, to learn something new.

  
For now you pressed kisses to the corner of his lips, reveled in the closeness and the warmth you shared.

  
“I like what you’ve done with your hair, by the way,” he said to you and ran his fingers through it, “Suits you.”

  
“Thanks,” you replied, closing your eyes and leaning into the touch, “I like it, too.” Having your hair touched was one of your favorite things in the world; it sent pleasant shivers down your spine and you had to stop what you were doing.

  
Askin laughed quietly and kept on caressing the back of your head, carded his fingers through your hair carefully as not to destroy the ponytail you wore at the moment. It was easier to tie it up now that it had grown well past your shoulders.

  
“So,” he said between kisses, “What kind of dance do you want to learn?”

  
You looked at him with wide eyes, trying in vain not to seem overwhelmed by the idea of there being _several_ kinds of dances.

  
“The easiest one?” you asked more than ascertained, nervously nestling with the lapels of his jacket.

  
“Accepted.”

  
Askin kissed you again just for good measure and you calmed again, that temper of yours quieting down. Since the war ended your anger was directed inward more often than not and you were grateful for the people close to you who knew how to help.

  
“Well then,” Askin said, “Normally you would want music for this kind of thing but we’ll make do. Now, take my hand and follow my lead-”

 

* * *

 

 

You were glad that you wore only socks because otherwise your embarrassment over every time you stepped on his feet by accident would have been accompanied by a stronger feeling of guilt.

  
“It’s okay,” Askin laughed every time you blushed bright red and mumbled curses under your breath, “It happens to the best of us. You should have seen my first attempts when Bambi tried to teach me, I think I almost broke both her kneecaps.”

  
It made you feel better, even if you continued to stumble a little. Trying this made you realize that you had the agility to make it work but lacked the social skills to utilize it properly- so you followed Askin’s instruction too rigidly at first, didn’t allow your body to relax.

  
It changed, though, with time and with patience, and you took steps with greater confidence. It was one of the things you loved most about him- he didn’t pressure you, always had a clever or silly thing to say to remind you that hey, there was no expectation to meet and he was there to help you along.

  
“Try to have fun,” he told you as he spun you around once, squeezing your hand, “That’s the most important thing. Dancing is terrible if you don’t love doing it.”

  
So instead of repeating formulas in your head like you would when solving equations you let yourself have fun with it, relaxed with every step and kiss.

  
“Look at you, twirling around like that,” Askin said as you first successfully spun when he led you. With success also came confidence- because even if you occasionally fumbled or stepped in the wrong direction it was the feeling of it all that mattered to you.

  
“I think you would enjoy less traditional dances,” Askin mentioned once, “I like them better, too, because patterns don’t matter at all.”

  
So that’s what he taught you, not all at once but rather as quickly as you wanted. What began as something you felt you had to learn morphed into lessons you looked forward to. After all this time it was difficult to get rid of the feelings of inadequacy but you knew how to single out automatic thought responses, how to sneak around them.

  
“Thanks for doing all this,” you managed to say one day, better late than never, while hugging him, “You better be having fun, too.”

  
“Aw,” Askin replied, “I’m afraid I am not mature enough to spend time on things I don’t enjoy doing.”

  
“You’re a freaking hedonist, that’s what you are.”

  
Warmth flooded you as he laughed and you felt like your heart was too small for this once again. Sometimes the intensity of emotions as a concept was overwhelming even after the wars you had been through.

  
But by now your heart knew how to feel; through repetition and effort. It was something to be proud of- defying the boundaries of what people said Hollows had to be. Just like Nel, who never gave up on her kind; just like Harribel and her fracciónes whose respect was an acquired taste.

  
You smiled into Askin’s shoulder, smiled because things were good and you could afford to be happy. It was about time.

  
“You feelin’ okay?” he asked you as you curled your fingers in his soft hair, “I mean, I know you love hugs even on the best of days, but-”

  
He trailed off.

  
“Yeah, ‘m good,” you said and smiled wider, “All’s good.”

  
Love came to you so easily these days.

 

* * *

 


End file.
